


Personal Call

by Perpetual Motion (perpetfic)



Category: Batman: The Animated Series
Genre: Gen, i think, post-ep for Old Wounds, the other has emotional constipation, two dads talk about their kids, well one dad talks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:47:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22874998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perpetfic/pseuds/Perpetual%20Motion
Summary: Batman and Jim have a talk on the rooftop.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	Personal Call

**Author's Note:**

> I am mostly sure this takes place after the events of Old Wounds, but it's hard to say for certain because I just remember Dick shows up on the roof alongside Tim, and he doesn't say anything, but I can't say for certain it's in this same episode.

I’ve barely lit my cigar when there’s a flapping sound to my left. It could just be wind, maybe a large bird, but I’ve sent up the signal, and I’ve learned to differentiate the cape from the wildlife.

“Jim.”

I finish lighting my cigar before I turn to him. He’s standing on the ledge, cape fluttering around his ankles, looking all the world like he doesn’t even notice he’s on six inches of almost-crumbling concrete. “Batman.” I look at his feet, then look meaningfully at the roof. “Room enough for two.” I catch the barest twitch at the edge of his mouth as he steps down onto the roof proper. Most people wouldn’t even see it. Me? I know a full-blown grin from the Bat when I see it.

“What’s going on?” 

“Bit of personal business.” I hold up a hand as his eyes narrow. “Not me. You.”

“Me?” A lesser man would take a step back. Batman just crosses his arms. “I don’t have personal business.”

I cock an eyebrow and risk half a grin. “I threw up the Bat Signal the other night. You came. Robin came.” I take a puff of my cigar for pure dramatic effect. “Nightwing came.” I don’t miss the tightening of his arms around his body. “Funny how he suddenly showed up with Robin. Funny that in that suit of his, he still looks remarkably like Robin used to before Robin disappeared for awhile and then came back short.” I watch how still he holds himself. Even the wind’s leaving his cape alone. He’d be intimidating if I didn’t know him so damned well. “So, let’s talk.”

“About what?” His voice is barely above a growl. I’ve hit a major nerve.

“About Robin. The first one. About what happened.” I stub out my cigar under my shoe. “About why Nightwing suddenly showed up when the signal went up.” I turn away from him, but I can see him in my peripheral. He’s working his jaw back and forth a bit. I’ve got him on the edge. He’s either going to talk or take a leap off the roof. 

“There were issues. He left.”

I stare out over the city, scratch my fingers on the ledge, and force myself not to smile when he moves to my side. “Where’d you get the new one?”

“There was a sale,” deadpan, but I expected as much.

“Seems like a good kid. A little quick at the mouth.” I don’t miss the twitch. Another Bat smile. “Different disposition than the first.” The twitch is gone. I’m back on shaky ground. “But maybe that’s what you needed.” I look at him again. He’s staring out over the ledge, pretending like he’s not really listening. “And Nightwing certainly knows what he’s doing.” That gets no response. The only thing moving is his cape. “But that’s apparently still a sore spot.” I stop talking and wait. The Batman’s not the only one who knows the power of silence.

“He changed.”

“He grew up.”

“That too.”

I stare at him. He keeps looking out over the city. I wonder for a moment how many more nights we’ll have like this, the two of us on the roof, discussing killers and robbers or the short-comings of a man who doesn’t get that ‘changing’ and ‘growing up’ are one and the same. “You couldn’t keep him forever.” And it’s precisely the wrong thing to say. There’s a swirl of cape and a rush of air, and he’s right in my face with his teeth bared. He may be the Batman, but I was a cop in this city before I was Commissioner. I stand my ground. Cross my arms. Keep my eyes straight on his. “Kids grow up, Batman. Whether you train them to or not.” I do him the courtesy of looking away, giving him a chance to get out before the conversation keeps moving. I’m surprised to hell when he talks.

“He’s better than I remember.” His voice is flat. No confusion, no anger, no pride; just a statement of fact. I wonder how far down he’s pushed his emotions about this whole thing. “He knows more.”

“No, he doesn’t.” I can’t see his eyebrows, but I’m betting at least one of them is raised at me. “He’s just using things he hasn’t needed to before. You taught him everything, but he didn’t always have to use it.”

“He’s better.” And his tone isn’t flat anymore. I can hear pride. I can hear disappointment. He wants Nightwing to go out and be something great, to do something great, to stand on his own two feet, but he never wanted him to be completely independent. I know that feeling pretty well myself.

“When Barbara moved out, I spent three weeks waiting for a call. I was ready to run to her apartment, pack her things, and lead her back to the house. Then, one night she showed up. She needed a place to stay. I thought for sure that it was an excuse, that she’d be tucked away in her old room in no time, and then she told me that the exterminator had shown up two hours late, and that she needed a place to stay so that her apartment could air out. She stayed the night, left in the morning, and called me the next afternoon to see about dinner over the weekend. It hit me that she’d grown up, and there was nothing I could do about it.”

There’s a long silence. I wait it out and pretend like I don’t see the way he’s working his jaw back and forth. If it were any other night, any other conversation, I’d offer him the name of my dentist, make a joke about saving a few of his teeth before they’re ground to dust. But I hold off, and I wait. 

“There was a fight.” It sounds like he’s forcing the words out over minefields and machine guns. “More than one, but the last one, the one that ended it, he threw a punch. He walked away.” He stops, and I don’t need him to finish off the rest. There is no ‘rest’. That’s the end. I let the silence hang for a few seconds; let him get his equilibrium back.

“When you’re never taught how to apologize, you have to fumble through it the best way you know how. Sometimes all you can do is show up and stay quiet.” Which was exactly what Nightwing had done that night. No questions. No comments. Just a quiet presence next to Robin as I had answered all the questions. I glance at Batman. He’s squinting at something in the distance. He’s up on his toes. I have minimal time. “And sometimes you have to start the conversation again.” I get the barest glance. Just enough to let me know that he really has been listening the whole time, and then he’s gone. Off the roof like a suicide. I hear the ‘chink’ of his grapple lodging in the side of a building, and then he’s swinging through the air and into an alley. I consider calling a patrol unit, letting them know that a couple of guys will be hanging from a lamppost in the next few minutes, but I let it go. The Batman can handle the criminals. My men can handle getting them down. Now that he’s off the roof, that’s all the say I get in things.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm moving some old fics over from LJ. The spelling errors are VINTAGE, okay?


End file.
